New Nation
by Kifu
Summary: "Our side lost." "What do you mean, Remy?" Rogue asked. Her voice was almost serene. Remy opened his mouth, but no words came out. His hands floated in front of him as if he was going to paint a scene, but they dropped back down by his side. "Stark is dead. Da Captain is prisoner. An' … we lost. Da Avengers went down." "What do we do?" Kurt asked. "I dunno, but I think we run."
1. Chapter 1

"Mein Gott," Kurt whispered. Similar whispers of discontent washed across the room, but no one was willing to raise their voice.

The television flashed pictures of the high level super-powered prison. Rubble fell from all around, terrifying and ferocious figures danced atop the prison, and the anchor lady continued to look backwards and around, her shoulders hunched out of fear.

"The Avengers are already on the scene," she explained in a higher voice than normal, "fighting to control the breakout. So far, there isn't much change. Reports of loosed villains are spreading around like wildfire –"

Kurt turned away from the screen, pushed past Logan, and made his way over to Scott. "I don't think they can handle this on their own," he told the man in a low voice. He didn't need the whole room overhearing him.

"By the time we get there, the fight will either be won or lost," Scott countered.

"So if the Avengers do fail … shouldn't we be there to help clean up the mess? Not exactly our M.O., but don't you think that may clarify our image to the nation?"

Scott shook his head. "If the Avengers fail and we're there, we'll be targeted just as badly as the men and women that broke out."

"Not by our friends," Kurt insisted. "Scott, we need to be there. This affects all of us, not just the Avengers. We have some people locked away in that prison that would love to take another swing at us."

Logan came up beside Kurt and clapped him on the shoulder. Kurt's knees buckled, but he was able to maintain his balance without problem. "Elf, they're gettin' some back into their cells. They have it under control."

Kurt shot Logan a skeptical look. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah."

Scott cleared his throat. "We should all get back to work. The jet still needs some work done to it, right Kurt?"

"She can still fly clear," Kurt replied.

"Yet it still isn't finished."

"Nein," Kurt conceded. "I guess I should finish that, oder?"

"Go. Get Rogue to help you out."

Kurt nodded and walked away from Scott to the other side of the room, where Rogue had made herself at home. Her right leg was draped across the back of one of the chairs, her left leg holding up the majority of her weight. Her eyes remained glued onto the screen of the television, drinking in the updates the news crew had to give. Ororo stood to Rogue's right and Remy sat at the edge of the chair, leaning forward with rapt attention.

"Rogue."

Rogue's neck snapped around to look Kurt in the face. Once she recognized Kurt's face, she settled down. "What's up, 'Crawler?"

"Mind to give me some help on the jet?" he asked.

Remy looked around as well, much more slowly than Rogue had. "Need an extra hand?"

Rogue shrugged. "Sure, sugah." Her voice sounded confident, but as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she turned back around to watch for continuous updates on the news channel.

Kurt's eyes followed Rogue's for a moment before he realized Remy had even spoken to him. "The two of us should be okay. Thanks, Remy."

"Ya," Remy replied flatly. "I'll come down an' give you da big updates."

"I don't know if I could handle that," Kurt said.

"Rogue?" Remy asked.

"Ah can get them later."

Giving up on the two of them, Remy shrugged a shoulder and turned back in his chair. Rogue waited for the end of the current commercial to end, rose to her feet, and followed Kurt out of the door. "Awful terrible goin' on over there," Rogue commented once they were out of the room.

"Ja," Kurt agreed shortly. "I don't think we should be standing around idle. Scott's giving us busy work. It isn't right."

"You talked to Scott?" Rogue asked rhetorically. "Ah guess he knows best. Tactical leader an' all that."

"That's the thing," Kurt argued, his voice raising ever so slightly as their feet took them down the hallway. His hands jutted out in front of him as he talked, the muscles rigid with his tension. "I don't think he's making the right decision. We could be over there in a couple hours and helping clean up this mess. We're supposed to be super heroes, nicht wahr?"

"Some super heroes we always turn out t' be. One look at you an' you send people screamin'. Ah touch someone an' Ah might kill 'em."

"Okay, and when have we ever let that stop us? We're good people, Rogue. We do what we think is right."

The two of them paused as they waited for the elevator doors to open at Kurt's touch. Rogue avoided Kurt's looks as they entered the small room and she continued to avert her eyes as they stood in opposing corners. She leaned into the corner of the room. Kurt stood firmly by the control panel, taking a wide stance to compensate for the movements.

"I don't think this is right."

"An' you've made that clear, Kurt," Rogue replied sharply. "Ah don't know what you think Ah can do. Go up an' beat Scott's ass until we're in California?" Rogue lifted her face to direct a piercing look in his direction.

Kurt's posture slumped. "No. That wouldn't work."

"Right. So we're gonna do what Scott told us to do an' wait for Remy to come down an' give us updates. We ain't gonna worry 'bout it."

Kurt didn't say anything again as the elevator descended and the doors opened up upon the arrival to their floor. He led the way out and to the hanger where the jet was stored and waiting for maintenance.

"So what's the problem?" Rogue asked.

Kurt shrugged. "I was going to fix up the stabilizers. The jet's a little choppy on take-off and touch-down. Most of everything else the last time we had her out is up-to-date. I've put a few hours into her."

"An' what do you want me to do?"

"Liebchen, do I look like I have fingers for fine-tuning?" Kurt held up his hands with a half-assed smile, his pointed teeth shining too brightly through the grin. "I can get myself on up there to work on the pieces, but the parts that need help are much too small. Other parts too heavy."

"Kurt, you're hopeless," Rogue retorted.

"Na ja," Kurt sighed. "That's what you get for being a freak."

Rogue situated herself so that she was directly underneath the panel Kurt needed under. She gave it a long, hard stare before turning back to the blue mutant. "Ah bettah not hear any of that from you, Sugah."

Kurt teleported out of her line of sight, reappearing above Rogue, his adhesive fingers and toes gripping onto the smooth metal of the jet's fuselage. "No, really. My fingers are so fat and few." Kurt wouldn't let Rogue win this one. Wallowing in self-pity wasn't usually his style, but he figured it was a slightly better idea than having the fight at the prison at the back of his mind. Happiness wasn't on the menu.

"Think you can hand me … something to get this panel off? I forgot to grab my tools."

"It'd be faster for you to get them yourself," Rogue pointed out. Even so, she was already inches above the floor and floating to the side of the hangar where all the spare parts and repair tools were organized.

"Doch," Kurt argued lightly. "Besides, we can't have you feeling worthless."

"Wouldn't grabbing Sean be a better idea?" Rogue asked.

Kurt relinquished his hands' grasp on the jet and shrugged. "I guess he's out. Danke." Standing up to his full height, Kurt reached for the wrench in Rogue's hand. Squatting down again, he set to work on removing the panel.

"Um, Rogue?"

"Huh?"

"Once I release these bolts, this panel's coming down. Hard."

"Are you asking for help?"

"Ja."

Floating up to level herself with Kurt, Rogue held her hands above her head to hold the sheet in place as Kurt finished taking out the last two bolts. The weight shifted slightly in her hands, cuing her to take the piece down to the ground.

"'Ey, you two in here?" Remy's voice rang out in the cavernous hangar.

"Nein. We're on vacation," Kurt replied sarcastically.

"'Fraid I got some bad news."

In a flash of a second, Kurt jumped off of the bottom of the jet, twisted in mid-air, and landed lithely on the ground. "What?"

"Our side lost."

Silence dragged out between the three persons present.

"What do you mean, Remy?" Rogue asked. Her voice was almost serene.

Remy opened his mouth, but no words came out. His hands floated in front of him as if he was going to paint a scene, but they dropped back down by his side. "Stark is dead. Da Captain is prisoner. An' … we lost. Da Avengers went down."

"The prisoners?" Kurt barely managed more than a raspy whisper.

"Free."

"Oh Gawd," Rogue cried, turning away from Remy. Her hands flew up to her face, cradling her cheeks. "Oh Gawd."

"What do we do?" Kurt asked. He didn't know if he was asking Remy or not.

"I dunno, but I think we run."


	2. Chapter 2

Kurt sat perched at the edge of an old Berlin building. The broken road stories below him was empty. Tall, prickling weeds pushed out from the cracks in the pavement, with smaller and leafier plants filling in the spaces. Decaying paper, plastic, and other litter lined buildings where the wind didn't reach as well. Some of the stone structures sported rotting wood over the windows as if to protect what was inside. Kurt knew the efforts were futile. Other shops and homes didn't bother with their windows. Most were broken or cracked, but the buildup of grime on the glass spoke enough.

Berlin was far from abandoned. Curious animals too shy or scared to venture into the sprawling capitol had hardened their resolve. It wasn't uncommon to see smaller wildlife in the middle of the city, poking its nose around or skittering about. People still lived here, but they didn't move freely about like before. Through the dirty glass windows, one usually would find curtains or mini-blinds permanently obstructing view into the living space. Anyone that would walk the street moved with false confidence.

Quiet fury burned deep within Kurt over the past many months. He did nothing to stop this outcome under Scott's dismissive command. His people of Germany – indeed, of the world – suffered for the X-Men's lack of action. The team had disintegrated since, and Kurt returned home to Europe.

Even with the change in world regime, and Kurt's unhidden efforts against the Nation, the general populace looked at the blue mutant with scorn. Humans had more spiteful ammunition against their special cousins and didn't appreciate Kurt's presence in fear of alliance to the Nation. He was one of Them, after all, and all mutants must have allegiance pledged to the tyrants. It was completely fabricated to justify their fears and Kurt did not pity them.

Kurt had to watch his back and all sides to stay alive. If the Nation were to catch him, he would expect he'd be found as an enemy of the Nation and be taken prisoner or executed. Neither appealed to him. If a human aligned with the group called the Human Backbone were to find him, they'd hunt him down until his head was on a platter. Kurt imagined the scenario wouldn't play out much differently than Kurt's life in the freak show part of the circus – or when he'd been blamed for a villager's death before Charles Xavier found him. Between the two extremes, Kurt knew that anyone he helped could rat him out for personal gain.

Some people began to move about as the sun came up. Dawn, for whatever reason, was a prime time for the exchanges of black market. The Nation's soldiers weren't yet out in mass until the sun shone strongly at later early morning. Kurt watched over their backs until he saw signs of the Nation and then made his retreat to where he hid. Kurt would protect against civil dispute and Nation harassment at night, but couldn't stay up all day to meddle in their affairs. He'd be identified and slaughtered if he'd pull such a stunt. Kurt had the unique ability to become one with the nighttime shadows to remain at large. He used that to his advantage.

The progression of lighting halted as the sun reached over the distant edge of clouds. Kurt had felt the oppression of damp air throughout the night, but a storm wouldn't break. With the gift of daylight to brighten the sky, Kurt finally saw what he sensed. The last thing he wanted was to be wet. While the dark clouds didn't look too heavy, he didn't chance a sudden downpour.

In a flash and puff of brimstone, Kurt was no longer conducting surveillance over the street, but squatting in his bunker. Removing travel from Kurt's life by teleportation helped him stay away from the Nation's maw. He popped up in unexpected areas and immediately vacated when his life was at stake. He could fight, he could protect, but avoiding conflict was in his best interest.

He didn't share his space with anyone else. Either no one wanted to be around him or Kurt couldn't find anyone he could trust. Kurt's blue, fuzzy skin, prehensile tail, and fanged teeth caused any human to shy away from him. It didn't matter if he helped them out. On the flip side, Kurt had enough people take advantage of his friendly personality in the year since the Nation took over. With Scott's blunder, Kurt couldn't depend on another's leadership. Yet Kurt wasn't ready to be a leader himself, even with his experience with Excalibur, those years ago.

His recent place of sleep was bleak. After the villains took over governments, Kurt didn't have much chance to return to the Americas and pack his meager belongings. If the X-Mansion still existed after enemy raids in the early stages of the New Nation, Kurt didn't want his things anyway. Posters, street clothes, and unhandled swords weren't going to help anyone. Now, all Kurt kept was a change of clothes, a relatively clean blanket, a notebook of surveillance notes, and a cheap hoard of pens. With fewer possessions, it was harder to carelessly leave things behind and easier to make a quick getaway.

Currently, Kurt resided in an old, abandoned castle. Germany had enough of them that the government didn't want anything to do with them. Some of the lesser villains preferred the security of the stone while others collected lavish possessions in distant mansions. All were greedy and power-hungry, regardless. Kurt liked exploring the history of his own country through the rooms. Most items were missing or broken, but enough was left to intrigue him.

Through the modest window installed in Kurt's chosen room, he could see that the clouds finally broke. He sent thanks to his good fortune. The drops fell in small clusters, slowly. So long as a storm didn't accompany the precipitation, the former Nightcrawler would have a peaceful night.

A piercing scream broke Kurt out of his barren dreams. He blinked out of confusion until the woman screamed again. He recognized pain and fear in her panicked calls. Clambering to all fours, whipping his ratty blanket aside, Kurt teleported into the antechamber at the great front door. A distraught woman in wet, clingy clothes and a young man with a similar disheveled appearance wandered urgently around the great room. When Kurt arrived, the man was towing the woman around, guiding her to a place to rest. Mixed with the rain water was a fair amount of blood from some unknown origin on the woman's body.

"Mein Gott, hilfe mich," she begged. Sobs found their way into her voice.

"Behruhig," the man replied calmly. His body language, on the other hand, betrayed his panic. Along with continuously checking the young woman over for her injuries, he glanced back at the door and around the room. Someone caused this and may still be after the couple.

Kurt stepped out from the dark corner he had teleported into. "Entschuldegung, meine Freunden," Kurt announced. Hopefully simply asking for their attention wouldn't send them into a frenzied panic.

The woman screamed even before she caught sight of Kurt. Upon seeing his obvious mutant stature, she screamed harder and moved to scramble away. The man yelled at him, threatening him. \Come closer and I swear I'll kill you,\ he warned in German.

\I'm not here to hurt you,\ Kurt replied in the same tongue. \Is someone after you?\

\Get out of here.\ The man wasn't listening to Kurt. Even with Kurt's hands out prone in the air, he was on the defensive. Meanwhile, his partner was throwing herself into a panic attack. Now that mutants and other super powered beings with an ego took over the world, like any cliché villain aspired to do, humans had an even harder time accepting Kurt's kind.

\I wish to help, sir,\ Kurt persisted.

\You've helped enough, freak.\ The man growled like Kurt's old friend, Logan, and placed himself well between Kurt and the woman.

\You're in my castle and I have some medical background,\ Kurt continued. He didn't want to define the structure as his property or express superiority, just explain his presence to the pair. At this rate, the woman would bleed out. She continued to whimper and scramble in the background for whatever reason, the pain evident on her face. \She needs help.\

\Not by your kind.\ The man expressed typical human behavior. He was being reasonable, yet it was still frustrating.

Kurt stepped forward, trying to make himself less threatening. \Please, I can only help.\

Without verbally answering him this time, the strange man dashed forward in attack. A primal growl escaped his mouth as he lunged to punch. Kurt side stepped with ease. The man looked confused in his stance for a heartbeat when he realized his fist didn't connect with its target. Kurt vaguely heard the girl scream behind him. Overcoming his hesitation, he turned around and tried again. Kurt ducked under his clumsily thrown punch and sidled behind him. \I will not hurt you.\

"Dietmar, bitte. Hӧr auf!" Her voice wasn't as strong as it was before.

\She needs help,\ Kurt persisted.

Only fury shone through the man's eyes. He was bested by a blue fuzzy freak and he didn't enjoy the humiliation. He tried a different tactic and threw an uppercut at Kurt's temporarily stationary form. Again, Kurt dodged the blow with ease.

\Stop it,\ the woman begged. \The others are going to find us.\

\Others?\ Kurt repeated. \Did someone hurt you?\

\Shut up,\ the man snapped. He held up his fists as if to strike again but didn't. Kurt could see the fighting calculation in his eyes, yet he was weary to be bested again. His stance on Kurt's involvement, on the other hand, was unwavering.

Kurt glanced back and forth between the hesitant Dietmar and frightened woman. He didn't owe these people anything, but if he abandoned them now, all his efforts within the last year would be for naught. "Sie sind ein Dummkopf," Kurt muttered impatiently under his breath.

\What?\ Dietmar demanded. Of cousre, now he listened, when Kurt didn't want him to hear what he said.

\I cannot help you if you do not help yourself,\ Kurt told him. \I cannot help her, understand?\

\I don't want your help. I don't need your help. Go back to where you came from!\ He took a step forward, closer in Kurt's range of motion, yet he didn't strike again. Kurt remained alert, but assumed a relaxed position. Exuding anything but pacifism could tip this situation from bad to worse.

Deciding not to comment on Dietmar's demand, Kurt also took a step backward. It brought him closer to the woman, but displayed submission simultaneously. He hunched downwards, bringing himself closer to the stone ground. He depended further on his tail to balance himself than before, which he had tried to not bring attention to earlier. Fuzzy blue skin and pointy teeth were alarming enough.

\Leave!\ he shouted. This time, after standing around idle but full of threats, he quickly covered the ground between the two of them. He swung another punch, which Kurt dodged as easily as the ones previously, but threw an off-hand jab with his other hand as well. The second fist caught Kurt in the gut, throwing his balance backwards and landing him backwards on his tail. He snaked his tail underneath him, brushing the floor with it so that he could push himself back into a squatting position. Dietmar turned around like a wild bull, squaring his body in Kurt's direction.

\I cannot leave, for you are in my home,\ Kurt insisted. His words came out breathier than he expected. He didn't feel out of breath from the blow.

Dietmar bellowed in a wordless, feral scream, but Kurt thought he heard another noise right before his fit of rage. His ear pricked toward the door, alerting him to something on the other side. \Remember when you mentioned that someone may be following you?\ Kurt asked politely. Dietmar seemed not to notice, but he could see the lady's flash of alarm from behind him. \I think they're here. I can get you two to safety.\

\Why do you continue trying to help us?\ the lady asked. Kurt grabbed Dietmar's attention well enough so that he broke his predatory gaze on him and looked out into the stormy weather.

\Because helping is what I do,\ Kurt told her. \Are you okay?\

\No. My stomach is bleeding.\ Kurt's heart sank. Stomach wounds were terribly fickle creatures and he didn't think he had the know-how to take care of one. It might help if he also knew the cause.

\Dietmar, listen to me,\ Kurt begged. \I can take you somewhere they can't – \

Kurt was cut off when a platoon of men burst into the castle's door, dripping fiercely onto the stone floor. They held knives and small guns easily hidden under clothing to protect them from the weather. Kurt hated dealing with guns.

\Nightcrawler,\ one of the Nation hissed. However the man knew him didn't matter. If he knew Kurt, then he would also know that Kurt was fully against their side. \Take out the mutant!\ he trumpeted.

"Sheiße!" Kurt gasped under his breath. Men with pistols pulled them out and took poor aim on the mutant, pulling the trigger before they had him fully within their sights. Dietmar yelled and covered his head, running further into the castle to get away. In his fight for self-preservation, he completely left his companion and foe behind. Kurt, on the other hand, pushed himself toward the lady, grabbing her roughly for simple contact so that he could teleport her away. \I'm sorry,\ he told her right before they ended up in a different room: Kurt's room.

Teleporting other people with him caused a lot of strain on both his and her bodies. She passed out, her body already weak from the wound in her lower torso. Kurt gently lowered her to the ground so that she wouldn't hit her head. Kurt was more used to the strain on his body, having teleported many people over many years. The effort it took to move her a few hundred feet in a split second was akin to someone running with her on their back in the same distance. If that someone was conditioned, they could do it with ease.

While the lady was out cold, Kurt decided to take a look at what he was dealing with so that he could help fix her up. He lifted her shirt just enough so that he could see the source of the blood. She was wrong. It wasn't her stomach that was pierced, but appeared to be more to the side where her spleen was. The spleen wasn't something he wanted to deal with, either. She need its functions to continue breathing properly. "Sheiße," he repeated. He lunged across the room and grabbed his clean shirt that he had laying beside his makeshift bed. He bit the fabric, pulling it, until it ripped into a long strip. He continued to pull it apart until he only had strips left. He used one strip to stuff into the wound, immediately winding another around her body and pulling it tight. He didn't have anything else to help her out. Once she was bandaged up, he picked her up and set her on top of his blanket, pulling the free half over top of her to keep her warmer. \I'll be right back,\ he promised her.

Kurt whipped around, careful to pick up his tail so that he didn't slap her body with it. With a powerful release of his muscles, he launched himself forward, darting up a wall and crawling along them as he made his way through the castle. He needed to find Dietmar.

The first sign of life in the hallways happened to be a pair of Nation goons. Kurt heard them before they saw him, but they acted as if Kurt's position on the walls was the best discovery in their life. One pointed up at Kurt, shouting in excitement, holding a longer dagger in his other hand. The other followed his partner's gesture and lifted a pistol into the air. He took better care to aim than everyone had in the castle's antechamber. Kurt teleported at the same time he heard a shot ring out from the pistol. The sound was deafening. Kurt reappeared behind the man, immediately wrapping his tail around his waist to throw him to the ground. The other man had to recover from shock with Kurt's disappearance before he could act appropriately. By the time Kurt kicked the gun out of the first man's hand, leaped over his body to grab it, and resituated himself to aim at the second man, he only managed to turn around.

"Oh."

\Put the knife down,\ Kurt ordered. He flicked his gun downwards before pointing it back at the man's chest. The other goon flexed to get up, but Kurt swatted him back down with his tail.

The man set the dagger down, kicking it down the hallway away from the three of them. "Danke," Kurt said. In two swift movements, he pistol whipped the man on the ground and cracked a hard-hitting punch to the second man's head to decommission them. He teleported away, popping up near the knife just long enough to pick it up, and reappeared further down the hallway, out of sight from the pair of goons. He took out enough time from forward momentum to shove the knife into the side of his pants, hoping dearly he wouldn't slice himself open.

Again, Kurt took to the walls, swooping up toward the ceiling only long enough to deposit the pistol in the rafters. He didn't have a use for a gun, but he also didn't want his enemies getting their hands on it. They had more than enough ammunition as it was. Soon enough, Kurt ended up in the castle's antechamber. No one else was present. Without hesitation, Kurt jumped to the ground, picking the hallway that Dietmar had fled down. He used all fours to cover more ground in a timely manner.

Another pair of Nation soldiers were searching each room in the castle methodically down this hallway. Kurt knew because the doors he carefully kept closed were wide open, the meager relics left in the castle tossed about. He reached the last room to have been opened, popping up in the doorway as he skidded to a stop. \Searching for me?\ he taunted.

\Get him!\ the same man that had known Kurt's show name shouted.

\Who? Me?\ Kurt asked innocently. His answer came quickly enough. Both these men had pistols, but their aims were only as good as displayed in the antechamber. Kurt launched himself upwards, crawling into the dark rafters for camouflage. \Is that the best you can do?\ he called from the dark. He knew that if he was careful, they wouldn't be able to see him at all.

\Show yourself, coward!\

\Am I the coward?\ Kurt asked them. \I'm not the one hiding behind a gun.\ In a puff of brimstone, he appeared behind one of the men, grabbing him forcefully from behind. The man let out a freak shot into the room without aiming, barely missing his partner. \I hope you counted your shots. I think you are out.\

The soldier dropped his gun, reaching backwards to claw at the mutant holding him hostage. His partner lifted his pistol, trying to take aim behind the squirming man. \Don't shoot me!\ his partner cried.

\Drop it,\ Kurt demanded. He pulled the knife out from his beltline with his tail, transferring it to his dominant hand. He held it up to the man's throat. They didn't need to know that Kurt wouldn't kill him, but he would certainly make it look that way.

The soldier hesitated and strengthened his grip on the pistol, using both hands instead of one. \Please,\ his partner pleaded. \I don't want to die.\

\Let him go,\ the soldier with the gun demanded.

\Or?\ Kurt prompted.

\I will kill you.\

\You will kill me anyway,\ Kurt pointed out. Kurt bent low at the knees, switching his hold on the knife in his hand so that he didn't accidentally slice into the man's throat. Grabbing onto his shirt with his free hand, Kurt flipped him over his back, sending him tumbling to the ground. Tossing his knife upwards, Kurt caught it with his tail and darted forward on all fours toward the second man. He altered his pattern so that he couldn't take aim. The man hesitated to shoot until Kurt had already grabbed his wrist with both hands, throwing the barrel toward the rafters. They struggled for a moment until Kurt felt the man feebly punch at his chest. It hurt, but didn't do any real damage. Kurt angled his body, throwing all his weight into the soldier until he lost his balance. The gun clattered across the floor and Kurt landed heavily the soldier's side. He bounced up in a somersault, easily landing on his feet and whipping around. The last soldier groaned on the ground, but the other one had grabbed his gun, taking aim at Kurt. He squeezed off a shot before Kurt could teleport away. He felt hot pain enter and exit his shoulder, but at least the wound was clean.

Kurt popped up behind the last soldier on his feet, sending a punch at his lower back, aiming for his kidney. He went down with barely a cry of pain. \What did I say?\ Kurt asked.

He took his time in leaving the room, inspecting his shoulder as he walked. Hot blood seeped from the wound, but it didn't appear to have hit anything really important. Kurt could still feel his fingers on that arm. He had more important things to worry about at the moment.

Running on all fours wasn't as much an option to Kurt as it was before. Instead, he took to running down the hallways, working at a slower pace so that he didn't exhaust himself. For some reason, he found it harder to use two limbs instead of four when trying to move quickly. He eventually ended up in the castle's kitchen, which was clear of the soldiers. To save time, he teleported back to the antechamber and took the last hallway to the right.

Kurt didn't count the number of soldiers that burst into the castle behind the couple, but if he had to guess, a half dozen would have made them up. If that were the case, he only had another couple of men to take down before the castle would be more or less secure. Then he could focus his efforts on finding Dietmar and getting the lady to a place that could help her. Both tasks were dangerous, possibly more dangerous than finding the known enemies.

Kurt navigated the last hallway at a walk, pressing his thumb into the wound to better staunch the bleeding. It hurt like a thousand bees stinging him all at the same time, over and over again, but he did it anyway. He could be comforted in knowing that the bullet was gone, though, and that he didn't need to worry about it getting embedded in his flesh and causing an infection. If he could find someone to sew him back up, he'd be good as new in a couple weeks. He'd lay low for a while until it healed well enough that he didn't have to worry about it getting dirty.

Instead of finding the pair of soldiers, Kurt ran across Dietmar again. He came at him with a knife poised dramatically over his head, shouting at the top of his lungs like a madman. Kurt ducked and threw himself forward, shooting through Dietmar's legs and tripping him up with his tail. The man fell with a heavy thud, taking his time in getting to his feet.

\Did you take care of the other two?\ Kurt asked. He stood at his full height, looking down at Dietmar. He offered his hand to the man to help him to his feet.

Dietmar didn't look too happy to be in Kurt's presence again. He batted Kurt's hand to the side, but didn't attack him again. Kurt thought he was making progress. He didn't even lunge at Kurt again when he lumbered to his feet, grunting and growling to himself as he did so. Dietmar turned to regard Kurt, a scowl plain across his face, but acted more complacent. "Ja, zwei."

\I got the other four before I found you. I also took your girlfriend to safety. She needs to see someone quickly.\

\She's not my girlfriend!\ Dietmar shouted. He bristled up as if he was going to strike at Kurt again, but held himself in place. His fists bunched up angrily by his sides, his fingers working out the rage.

"Es tut mir Leid," Kurt apologized. \Friend?\

\Sister.\

Kurt felt a heavy weight drop onto his chest. He didn't have a whole lot to family growing up, but he knew how important family was. The X-Men turned out to be his family once Professor Xavier took him in. \You better come quick,\ Kurt suggested. \I can teleport us there – \

\I'm walking.\ Dietmar pushed past Kurt to walk down the hallway to get to the antechamber. Kurt had to jog to get beside him again in order to lead the way. Once Kurt was back in his line of view, Dietmar increased his pace to match Kurt's until they reached where Kurt was staying. Dietmar shoved Kurt with his forearm, flashing to his sister's side and falling into a kneeling position beside her. She was still out cold, as were the guards further down the hallway that Kurt had dispatched earlier.

\Dietmar, do you know of anyone that can help her? As you can imagine, I haven't made very many friends.\ Kurt needed to press the urgency onto the young man so that they didn't lose her.

"Ja …" Dietmar said uncertainly. "Ich glaube schon."

\She should not be moved. Whomever you know needs to be brought here. Go get them. I'll make sure that the soldiers don't attack again.\

\Why should I trust you?\ Dietmar asked. Her turned around at the waist to level a glare at the blue mutant, but hand still held his sister's. He really cared for her, but still did not trust Kurt.

\I've done all I could. I brought her to safety and you to her. You will have to trust me off of that.\ Kurt stepped away from the door, giving Dietmar room to leave if he wished. \You must act fast if you wish to save her.\

Dietmar turned his gaze back to his sister and leaned down to kiss the hand that he held. Gently setting it down on top of her chest, he rose to his feet. His shoulders were hunched and his eyes were cast down, but only for a moment. He strode forward strongly, pointing aggressively at Kurt when he passed. \You better be gone when I get back,\ he said.

\As you wish,\ Kurt replied with a respectful bow. Dietmar left the room, leaving Kurt to watch over his sister.

Kurt squatted beside her, checking her relative temperature with his hand. She felt a little warmer than necessary, but nothing alarming yet. If Dietmar hurried, she could still make it without a hiccup. Kurt stroked her hand and fingers, trying to be comforting even though she was unconscious. He stayed in that position for what felt like an eternity, periodically checking on the heat coming off her forehead and taking her pulse. Her breathing stayed consistent.

Footsteps rang through the hallway, pulling Kurt away from the girl. As they approached, Kurt could tell that they weren't the soldiers'. The soldiers wore heavy leather boots, and while they weren't uniform, they were consistent out of the six. There were two sets of steps, and Kurt could feel the urgency from them as they came closer. Dietmar was back with help.

Kurt scrambled to gather up his pens and notebook, grabbing the rest of his extra clothes that he hadn't used on Dietmar's sister. He couldn't very well grab his blanket from her, so his belongings were effectively cut in half. Holding everything in one arm, Kurt scaled the wall nearest him and crawled into the rafters seconds before Dietmar and his friend burst into the room. They panted heavily.

\Are you still alive?\ Dietmar asked with alarm, falling to his knees beside his sister. He turned around to his friend when he determined her life.

\Excuse me,\ his friend said. \I'll need some space.\ He bent over the girl with a stethoscope in hand, pressing it against her lungs. Next, he examined the wound. His tongue clucked against the roof of his mouth. \Damage to the spleen,\ he observed. That wasn't news to Kurt. \Gun shot?\ Dietmar nodded. \The bullet still appears to be inside her. No exit wound. Hopefully it didn't shatter inside. It appeared to miss her ribs on the way in.\

Even though the girl was far from out of the woods, Kurt let go of a heavy sigh. The weight that pressed to his shoulders when he discovered her relation to Dietmar lifted. She was in good hands now. Much better hands than Kurt could offer her. He climbed further into the rafters, bamfing away when he was as high as he could get. He was sure that they could hear the sound from where they were on the ground, but at least Dietmar couldn't go after him. Kurt just had to make sure that the girl was okay.


End file.
